I live on an island and there are floating buildings trees
and lots of people I don’t know here.
Last night I hovered nine floors above the ground as girls
unbuttoned their dresses and drank cokes by open windows.
We were suspended in the heat and haze.
In the dark, we sized up sidewalk fiends and snapped
our fingers at them. We whistled, hollered, and I went
home smelling of smoke-sex-visions.
Summer makes people molten and strange, I’ve decided.
We think we know ourselves, and then the volume
is turned up, and we step into the black air where
we discover we can levitate. I think it is because we happen
to be young, alive and together all at once.
CDL
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